A NewYear
by Mrs. Shezza Watson-Holmes
Summary: John is throwing a New Years Eve party, much to Sherlock's dismay. When a kissing game at midnight goes awry, can Sherlock and John overcome the complications it causes? John/Sherlock? Possibly. Awkward social situations? Definitely!


**Hello everyone! I am quite new at writing fanfiction, so any advice would be appreciated! Please point out any spelling/grammar errors, I do not have a beta reader and I would love to fix any mistakes you may notice. The game is on!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own ANY of the characters. They belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and are beautify interpreted by the writers and actors at BBC.**

Chapter 1

The Calm Before the Storm

The door slammed shut as John entered the cold hallway to their flat after a long day at work. It had been a dreadfully long day at the clinic filled with people who had already begun celebrating the New Year. John had absent-mindedly tended to them and sent them on their way, all the while running over his to-do list in his head. He and Sherlock were throwing a New Years Eve party tonight, and he had quite a lot of things to do before hand.

It was really John's party, seeing as Sherlock would never have thrown one himself, but John wasn't going to hold that against him. He knew Sherlock didn't really hate parties as much as he claimed, and John was determined to show him a good time tonight. John had only invited a few of their closest friends and had even decided not to invite his current girlfriend, just so that Sherlock would not feel uncomfortable of course.

John trudged up the stairs, the heavy shopping bags digging into his hand. John opened the door to the flat and was not at all surprised to find his consulting detective laying on the couch with the room in a state of disarray around him. To an untrained eye it would appear that a filing cabinet had exploded, but John was able to see that Sherlock had been sorting his sheet music.

"_I'm back. I could have used some help you know_." John called over his shoulder as he went to put away the groceries. Sherlock continued laying there with his eyes closed, the papers haphazardly sitting on his chest fluttering softly with every breath. It almost looked as though he was asleep, but that is extremely unlikely being that Sherlock didn't waste time with such human habits as self preservation.

John entered the kitchen, sighing as he saw the table and counters covered in a vast array of Petri dishes, beakers, and mysterious chemicals. He looked around a moment for a nonhazardous surface to place the groceries on and ended up settling with putting them down on the floor.

"_This is going to be a long evening if Sherlock is in one of his moods again_." John thought to himself as he put away the groceries. He quickly finished the mundane task and with a steadying breath, entered the living room to wake the sleeping dragon.

"_Given the state of the flat I'm assuming you didn't have a case today_" John said coming to stand beside Sherlock who was still lying on the couch.

Sherlock appeared to be in his mind palace, his mahogany curls creating a halo around his head. He didn't respond, and John decided that it was better to get straight to the point. With an irritated eye roll, John said a bit louder "_Well the party is tonight so go take a shower. We only have two hours left to get ready Sherlock_."

That appeared to do the trick, and Sherlock sat up immediately and turned to look at John. "_I don't want to attend any party. It is completely ridiculous to have people in our flat, drinking and pretending to want to be here. And besides, I have important work to do_." Sherlock huffed.

John sighed, and ran his hands over his face. "_Sherlock don't make this difficult_." John looked at Sherlock with his deep blue eyes. "_Please for me, just go take a shower and get dressed_."

Sherlock stared at him a moment longer, but ultimately left for a shower as John requested. John bustled about the room cleaning up their messy flat. He had politely asked Sherlock to try and keep it neat while he was at work, but instead the consulting detective appears to have taken offense at the suggestion and done the exact opposite. Of all the days to finally sort through the sheet music he had been squirreling away, of course Sherlock chose the one day they were having company over.

John finished up removing the sheet music and empty tea cups from the living room and moved on to the potentially hazardous kitchen. John softly hummed one of the violin pieces Sherlock was so fond of as he moved Sherlock's various chemicals and experiments to an empty cupboard to be dealt with later.

"_Well if they haven't killed us yet I'm sure an evening with them in the cupboard can't do us that much harm, although with Sherlock you can never tell_." John thought as he locked the cupboard door for good measure. Wouldn't want anyone accidently getting into it, might cause them to grow an extra arm or something.

John heard the shower cut off and he smiled to himself knowing that he had won their little battle of wills, and that Sherlock had actually showered instead of just sitting there sulking. He wiped off the counters and began to prepare the finger food that they were going to serve at tonight's get together. "_Sure is taking Sherlock a long time to get dressed._" John muttered to himself, not that he was counting. _"I could use his help getting the food ready if he would hurry up._"

John was bent over the vegetable bin in the fridge trying to find the cucumber he had bought when he heard the creak of footsteps behind him. John was still rummaging in the fridge "_Took you long enough, come help me with_..."

John turned around and Sherlock stood in the doorway. His hair softly curled form the humidity of the shower, and was still dripping gently onto his exposed shoulders. Sherlock's lean frame was glisteningly wet and clad only in a fluffy white towel slung low on his hips.

John felt his face flush slightly at the sight of his scantily clad flat mate and he licked his lips, suddenly very thirsty. "_Sherlock, why aren't you dressed yet_?" John asked, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at the consulting detective who was eyeing him with a strange look on his face.

"_My purple shirt isn't in the closet_." Sherlock drawled with his velvety voice, completely calm. He leaned against the door frame and looked John up and down, obviously trying to deduce where his shirt was.

_"I can see by the washing powder on your shirt sleeve that you did the laundry already today, so I'm assuming you know where it is. Likely it is still in the laundry room downstairs given that you've only been down there once today_." Sherlock deduced, now wandering about the room.

John nodded, his cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink as Sherlock drew closer. "_Yes, it should be in the dryer. Hurry up and get dressed_."

"_Well I obviously can't go down like this_." Sherlock said, gesturing to his bare chest. "_Mrs. Hudson's shriek nearly woke the entire neighborhood last time I went down there without clothes_."

"_I guess I'll get it then_." John sighed at Sherlock, who was now standing directly in front of him.

Sherlock stepped back to let him bye and as John passed, he could smell the soft minty aroma from Sherlock's shampoo. It was a scent John enjoyed whenever Sherlock was near, and it had become almost a game to see how often he could smell it without getting caught. Not that John would ever admit that to anyone, he knew it was an odd thing for a flat mate to do but he just couldn't seem to stop himself.

John quickly retrieved the shirt and tossed it to the consulting detective when he returned to the flat. Sherlock left with a nod to go get dressed and John returned to the kitchen to finish the food. John resumed his quiet humming and soon was sashaying about the room as he collected wine glasses and champagne flutes. The stress of the day seemed to melt away as he prepared for the party and set out the drinks.

"_I didn't know you liked to dance, assuming that's what that was_." A voice just behind John rumbled, nearly causing him to drop all the glasses he was carrying. Sherlock was leaning against the doorframe again. This time he was dressed in his inexplicably tight purple shirt and his perfectly tailored trousers that hugged every curve, from his toned calves all the way up to his ridiculously plush arse. Not that John cared what Sherlock wore, that would be a weird thing for someone who is just a friend to care about.

"_Jesus Christ Sherlock, don't scare me like that_" John exclaimed, setting down the glasses before and harm could befall them. "_And I wasn't dancing_."

"_Really, I thought that's what you called it when you attempted to move at the same tempo as the music. Granted it was a rather poor attempt_." Sherlock said sarcastically, still standing in the doorway.

John rolled his eyes. "_Please just fill those glasses with ice. We only have thirty minutes left so I'm going to get dressed._" John said as he left the kitchen to take a shower. "Don't set anything on fire while I'm gone."

Being that John isn't a particularly high maintenance person, it didn't take him long to shower and return to finish the party preparations. Freshly washed and wearing a new navy and white striped jumper, John returned to the empty kitchen. He was surprised to see the glasses filled with ice, and he hoped Sherlock would return soon. He could use help prepping the veggie plate after all.

As if on cue, the consulting detective sauntered into the kitchen again. He leaned against the counter beside John, watching him slice red peppers to add to the tray. After a moment of quiet work, John stepped to the side and handed Sherlock the knife. "_Here, make yourself useful" John said as he began to make the dip. He looked over a moment later to find Sherlock hacking away at the poor pepper_.

_"What are you doing? You're supposed to slice it!_" John groaned when he saw the mess Sherlock had made. His cutting board was covered in randomly sized chunks of pepper that were obviously not dipping quality.

"_Well you didn't provide clear instructions_." Sherlock retorted with an irritated huff. "_I was under the impression that they were all just going to be eaten_."

"_Look, I didn't realize you couldn't cook_." John said softly, taking a step closer before Sherlock could contradict him. "_It's really just the way you're holding the knife._" John slid his strong hand over Sherlock's cool violinist's fingers that were holding the knife.

He stepped in front of Sherlock so that he could see and still have Sherlock helping. John could feel the heat of Sherlock' chest through his jumper, and the pleasant warmth of his breath on his neck.

Sherlock cleared his throat, and John could feel it rumble in his chest. "_I think I've got it now_." The detective said with a strained look.

"_Yes of course."_ John said, stepping back quickly. He went back to making the dip, kicking himself for the awkward moment. He wasn't sure why he had felt the need to teach Sherlock himself, he could have just told him how to grip the knife. Instead he had made a perfectly normal task into one of face melting embarrassment. These little awkward moments seemed to be happening a lot more often than necessary these days.

"_So, why isn't your girlfriend coming_?" Sherlock inquired, still concentrating on cutting the vegetable.

"_I didn't say she wasn't coming_." John said, knowing that want to or not, Sherlock was going to tell him his deductions.

"_You would have used less gel if she were coming. She commented on it last week and since then you have made an obvious effort to use less when you will see her. I don't know why you bother; she is more concerned with her own appearance than with your hair_." Sherlock rambled. _"She is right though, your hair looks better without gel_."

"_Really_?" John said, running a hand through his hair. He turned to look at Sherlock. "_I didn't invite her because I want it to be just us_." Sherlock raised an eyebrow and John playfully gave him a shove. "_I mean, just our friends. She wouldn't know anyone and I don't really want to babysit her all night_."

Sherlock hesitated. "_I thought that if you cared for someone than you wanted to spend time with them._" He said, glancing over at John.

John thought for a moment before answering. "_Well you do usually. I just thought it would be nice if it were just us_."

Sherlock finished chopping the pepper at the same time John completed the dip. John, still trying to figure out why he hadn't invited his girlfriend, spun around haphazardly to put the dip on the table. John's foot caught on the counter, and seeing the imminent peril Sherlock jumped to intervene. His arm shot out, catching John around his waist and preventing the near catastrophe. John caught his balance and it took him a moment to realize Sherlock's hand was still resting lightly on his waist.

John took a slight step back, instantly missing the lack of contact as Sherlock's hand fell away. "_Thanks. That could have been a disaster_." Sherlock nodded in agreement. John took the peppers out of his hand and readjusted the vegetable tray. Just then they heard a knock on the door.

Sherlock resumed leaning against the door frame, and with a small smirk he said "_Well, let the party begin_."

**Thank you for reading! I am not sure how long this will end up being. Right now it looks like it will be three chapters. I have never published smut, and not sure if it will make it into this fic. If it does I will have it clearly marked before hand and in its own chapter so you could skip it if you want. Please leave any suggestions and I will reply as soon as possible!**


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